Night Showers

Marilyn Buck

1997

Fifteen years ago
I bathed in morning's anticipation

now, after the sun drops
over the edge of the world
I hasten into showers
where water falls from walls
etched by prisoners' tears and curses

into safety I slide
fugitive from the State's eyes
alone
anointed

memory washes
the sorrow-drenched day
my spirit swirls tomorrow
into its eye
flings disappointment
down the well of yesterday

May 1997
This poem appeared in
Feminist Studies v 30 # 2, 2004